Sweetest Downfall
by Aerileigh
Summary: Because sometimes it is harder to betray than to be betrayed, and harder to be forgiven than to forgive. Because we don't know how Delilah felt as she lopped off Samson's hair.   Written for the first soundtrack challenge, ages ago. Draco/Ginny.


**A/N:** I'm alive, sort of. If you're hoping to updates for other projects, I haven't abandoned anything. I hope you accept this little offering while you are so extraordinarily patient.

I wrote this piece about a year ago for my Soundtrack Challenge I. This one-shot was inspired by the song "Samson" by Regina Spektor (no, it is _not_ a song fic). If you take a moment to visit YouTube to listen to it, I'll probably seem less crazy. Slightly. It's a lovely song, I promise.

Finally, this contains adults doing adult things in an adult way. While I wouldn't exactly call it 'smut,' please go read something else if you're not an adult. (If you want another confusing bedroom interaction between our favorite pair with plenty of descriptions of raindrops on glass, go read Storm Like Fear. It is safer. Draco is still shirtless. ^_~)

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><p>Her legs were tangled around his, and at some point in the night, he had flung his arm around her waist and kept it there, securely wrapped about her body.<p>

She watched him, blinking sleepily. Her eyes followed the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest under the thin sheet that covered the two of them. His light eyelashes rested against his pale skin like butterfly ghosts, and they hinted at a flutter when he sighed in his sleep.

Ginny sighed in tandem.

The pale light of the cloudy dawn sky filtered in through the half-closed curtains, casting a quiet gray across the gentle slope of the sheet where it dipped between them. She pulled the material closer so it stretched and pulled across his shoulder, slipping over his strong, bare arm. She nestled her forehead against his chest, soaking in the comforting warmth of his skin.

Draco wrapped his arm more tightly around her, pulling her body closer to his, and she looked up into his sleepy, quiet eyes.

"'S wrong, love?" he said, blinking slowly, sleepily.

She pushed her forehead down, into his chest.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she murmured.

He ran his fingers through her long, tangled hair. It fell loose around her face and shoulders, cascading down her back in thick waves. The vibrant color was lost in the early dawn twilight, but the strands glinted with coppery tones anyway, like cooling molten waves.

"I've done something—," she breathed, choking feebly on her words.

He slipped his head from the pillow and sleepily kissed the top of her head, breathing in the sweet vanilla scent of her hair.

"What have you done, beautiful?" he murmured absently as his eyes slowly closed in sleep.

When she started to shake with silent tears, he woke up again.

"Gin?"

He pulled her face from his chest and felt her hot tears turn chilly as they slid down his skin. He rolled her onto his pillow, cupping his hand around her cheek as they lay, eye to eye, blinking slowly.

"I've done a terrible thing," she managed.

Her eyes pooled over with tears that trailed down her cheeks, landing on the bridge of her nose and slipping onto the cool pillowcase. He smoothed each wet shadow away carefully, one at a time, with a graceful finger.

"Shhhhhhhh," he hushed her, gently brushing his lips against hers. "Whatever it is, we'll be fine."

She gave a sharp, shuddery gasp, not unlike a silent cry of pain.

"No, Draco. _We_ won't."

She flipped away from him, onto her stomach, and buried her face in the pillow they shared. The mane of coppery-glinting strands fell across the dawn-gray pillow, the sheets, and his arm, still wrapped around her waist.

He lifted it and ran his cool fingers down her bare back, smoothing her soft hair away from her fair skin as his fingernails traced a gentle trail along her spine.

The gray dawn light slowly darkened from silver to steel, and a few free-spirited raindrops splattered impertinently against the window, smearing a thin trail of clear water down the paned glass.

He lifted his head to rest it on his elbow, then bent down and kissed the nape of her neck. He moved an inch lower and brushed his lips against her body once more, savoring the sweetness of her fair skin. He smoothed away the few strands of hair that clung to her freckled shoulders and kissed her again, and again, meandering down her back, slipping away the cool sheet until it gathered at her waist.

He leaned back on one arm and used the other to flip her back to face him again. Her eyes were wide and red, and the pillow was wrinkled with small, wet tear stains.

She reached down for the sheet, but he grasped her wrist smoothly and held it.

"Leave it," he commanded easily, then added a soft, "please."

He slowly traced his hand over the gentle curve of her breast and down, resting his palm against her stomach.

She looked down at his left forearm, then closed her eyes as though she had been stabbed through the chest and couldn't bear to look at the wound.

"I gave the Aurors your wand, Draco."

He was silent, but his eyes flashed with fear, then concern, then sorrow.

She opened her eyes timidly, as though expecting him to attack. He met them with his, evenly matching her gaze and blinking wearily.

"When are they coming?" he questioned, his voice tired and low.

He pulled his hand from her stomach and ran it back through his hair. The tousled white-blonde strands drifted back onto his forehead as he closed his eyes and exhaled like one at the mercy of fate.

The rain pattered away at the window, which was awash with tiny rivulets slipping down the glass. The clouds continued to gather outside, gray piling on gray as they rolled higher and higher into the sky.

She twisted her neck up to see him, her face wilted and crumpled.

"We only have a few hours. They're planning to make the arrest before noon," she said in a tiny voice.

She began to cry again, and he watched her passively for a moment, his head still perched on his hand.

Her body was wracked with the silent sobs.

He inhaled sharply and wrapped both arms around her, scooping her up and winding his legs back between hers.

"Shhhhh, love. Shhhhh."

A fleeting shadow of pain—or fear—passed across his face, and he pressed his nose into her neck, cradling her head in his hands.

"This is alright," he said gently, smoothing the frenetic red halo.

She pulled away and impatiently shoved the wet, clingy hair from her eyes.

"How is this okay, Draco?" she demanded.

He slipped his hand from behind her head and followed the curve of her neck around, then down between her breasts. He dipped his head down to kiss her there, gently smoothing his thumb over the smooth, creamy skin and each delicate nipple.

When he looked back up at her, his eyes were grayer than the rainclouds.

"You were just doing your job," he murmured.

He returned to kiss the path his thumb had traced, ducking his head to worship her fervently. His light hair looked ashen in the dim light. She tilted her head forward and kissed his white-blond hair, shivering as he carefully attended to her sensitive skin.

"You knew I was working for them?" she asked sadly.

He nodded, not straying from his task until a sprinkling of goosebumps raised across her freckled arms. He lifted his head only when she shivered sweetly under him.

"I knew from the beginning," he stated simply. "You've always worked for the good guys."

A clap of thunder boomed from nearby, and the windowpane trembled. The raindrops clung to the glass, still slip-sliding their way down to the sill. Through the gap in the curtain, a meager light still managed to cast a pale glow.

"You knew my mission all these months, but you still—"

He looked at her again with sober confidence. "I knew, and I chose. It's my downfall; I should be allowed to choose."

He slipped a strong leg in-between hers. She sighed as he pressed his body flush against her, pulling her closer, tighter, and she wildly wished that she could just melt into him, and they could be the same person.

"I love you, Draco," she whispered.

She brought her mouth up to his and kissed him as thoroughly as she knew how. He responded in kind, insistently and totally claiming her as his.

He rolled over, pushing her onto her back and into the downy pillow, and she let him. He laid there for a long moment, looking down at her, and he memorized her eyes, recording each golden fleck and every hazel glint amid the shining, willing brown.

He slid into her with the barest of sighs and stayed there, still, breathing when she breathed and allowing himself the pleasure of her skin against his.

He could feel her heart beating.

Lightning filled the room as thunder crashed, and the eerie dawn light was broken with a jolt of bright white. Ginny's hair was, for half a moment, a shocking red against the pillow. Then it was copper again, and he kissed her.

He rocked unhurriedly, and she slipped her arms around his back, insistently drawing him as close possible.

The sheet slid sideways, pouring off his back and lying abandoned on the bed.

He watched with an emotion not unlike sorrow as her body pulled every muscle taut underneath him. Her toes pointed as she gasped dizzily and blinked, drawing air into her chest in large, needy breaths. Her fingers clutched at the white skin at his back, and he came too, collapsing against her with a groan.

He pulled the sheet up, covering her naked body and the ugly black mark on his forearm.

"I love you, too," he murmured.

Then he drew her close once more, slipping her head back against his chest, smoothing back the waves of her hair so that he could kiss her cheek as she blinked slowly, sleepily.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, and they slept, legs tangled, raindrops smashing and smearing on the glass, sparkling in the morning light.

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><p><strong>AN:** Thanks go to Lunar Fire and scubarang for their wonderful opinions and feedback, though since it's probably been a year since they saw it, they can't be blamed for it. ;)

Please review, whether you loved it, hated it, or are now utterly confused (in which case I shall do my best to explain myself via reply). Reviews do very good things to my soul. They are like magic.


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